


Falling Leaves Snapshot

by Aithilin



Series: Seasonal Prompts [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Autumn, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Seasonal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 12:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Meeting Noctis for a lunch date doesn't usually take so long





	Falling Leaves Snapshot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glaivenoct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaivenoct/gifts).

When the leaves fell across Insomnia, it was in waves of golds and crimsons. The parks were bursts of blazing colours that moved with the season settling across each district with its own unique cultivated gardens and boxes lining the avenues. Around the Citadel heart, canopies of brilliant reds and somber browns shadowed the sidewalks and plazas and bistros trying to squeeze one last warm weekend from the fading summer. Gold and silver floated through fountain waves and across gurgling waterways meant to reflect the majesty of the towers overhead; overcast grey skies offered a stark contrast to the brilliant beats of autumn colours reflected in the signs and lights and life of the city. 

The colours of the the season were reflected in the people— the warmth of the red sweaters and orange gloves, yellow scarves and silver hats to bundle up against the growing chill. Paper cups were held in both hands as teens gathered in little groups, braced against the wind. Suits rushed past with steaming lunches grabbed from the nearest street vendor or storefront, leaves gusting around their feet like confetti. 

Noctis watched the traffic move around him from the quiet plaza outside of the Kingsglaive headquarters. His own mug in hand, golden ginkgo leaves shaking above him, blanketing the stone around him. The first big fall of the season that had already left half the trees bare. 

“Waiting long?”

“Hours.”

“Pretty sure I would have heard about it if you were.” Nyx was dressed down— uniform traded for the jeans and shirt he preferred. The heavier sweater his only defence against any sudden gust of wind that may rise through the streets. He dropped down the steps with an easy, careless gait; any indication that he was a soldier lost in the slump of his shoulders and swing of his hips. “Ready?”

Noctis smiled and sipped his drink, “Almost.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Nyx offered up his own smile in response. He brushed away the leaves from the corner of the raised planter Noctis had used as a seat, the shower of frail golden leaves scattering to the ground. He lifted the drink from Noctis’ hand and settled in to watch the people go about their lives among the shining city. 

Falling leaves around them were swept up in the rush of traffic just beyond the plaza. Carried by staff of the building— active Glaives and the administrators alike— as they wandered through their varied shifts. Nyx watched the wake left by faces he recognized. The rush of families meeting for lunch; the quiet meandering of the veterans as they made their way out to the chaos of the city; the excitement of the recruits with their fresh uniforms, still loose in the shoulders here, or too fitted in the arms for another— free from the scuffs and stretches and scratches that would come later. They all wandered by without a second glance to the two figures beneath the golden tree shimmering with the breeze. 

“How about now?” Nyx asked, shaking the stolen paper cup to confirm that his few sips had emptied it.

“Not yet.”

The statues set to line the approach to the Citadel were all carefully cleaned of the autumn colours. The somber guards of the Lucian capital raised in monument to the enduring heart of the city. The stood like soldiers on duty, weapons raised to their sides. Nyx could see people stopping to admire the monuments— getting close to read the inscriptions and words left by dutiful descendants. Overhead, the sun was already well past the midday mark, catching the red shimmer of the Wall overhead. Light reflected in the shine of the chrome and glass buildings until the street would be bathed in copper and rust. 

If they didn’t move. There were still a few hours before that light was lost. 

Nyx looked around the plaza to see what had caught Noctis’ attention and kept him fixed in this spot. The shrouded statue of Etro stood among her empty fountain— the patron to the Glaives a nihilistic reminder of their purpose— now filled to overflowing with the fallen leaves gathered up from the streets. Noctis’ eyes rested long enough on that to catch the softness in the goddess’ stone features. 

A monument to the Founder across the busy street was decorated beneath his banners, a cheeky tourist (or the Prince himself) having draped a scarf across the statue’s broad shoulders. An appearance of levity for the stern statue that seemed to never resemble a human beneath the titles and armour. The banners overhead, affixed to light poles and awnings, rippled in the winds through the street. Advertisements for some event or another Nyx hadn’t paid much attention to. 

His stomach growled as he waited for the Prince’s mercy. “Little king, I’m getting hungry.”

The ginkgo leaves fell around them and Noctis’ phone was out in an instant to snap a picture. Nyx’s owlish confusion caught in the image as the golden fan of the foliage clung to his hair and shoulders. Noctis grinned in his triumph; “Now we can go.” 

Nyx plucked the leaves from him with a frown, the paper cup tossed to the nearest bin as he followed his enigmatic lover away from the quiet plaza and toward the side streets they both knew well. “What was that about?”

“I needed a picture to match the one from spring.”

“The one—” Nyx thought back months of dates and meetings and strange moments where Noctis seemed caught up in a world of his own. “The blossom one?”

“Yes. Want sushi?”

“You’re ridiculous, little star.”

“You’re the one who sat still that long.”

“You asked me to.”

“No, I just said we weren’t going yet.”

“You owe me a really good lunch.”

“Fair enough, hero.”


End file.
